As the helicopter approached the small clearing in the forest, Sokolov warily scanned the ground. No guards had been spotted chasing them since the last of them had been killed over the city, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t worry.

“We are landing in three Mikes!” The pilot said.

“Three minutes until we land, so pay attention and watch for more of those flying ponies.” Vasilyev repeated in Russian.

Sokolov watched as the helicopter slowed over the forest, flying right above the treetops.

“Would it be possible to go back to our Mi-24 for the equipment there?” Vasilyev asked the American sergeant.

“I doubt it.” The American instantly replied. “We would have to find it, and backtracking is not much of an option at this point. We have enough NATO ammunition here to start a small war, anyway, and it looks like you are carrying enough of both NATO and Russian ammunition to do the same.”

“I agree. Besides, we are still carrying some of the missiles from our helicopter.” Vasilyev replied.

“How do you propose to use them?”

“Simple: We hack into them with the ‘Net’ units, patch them through to our headsets, and send a ‘launch’ or ‘fire’ command.”

The American shrugged. “Sounds good. We are landing now, so get ready to secure the area.”

Petrov watched as the MH-60M maneuvered around and lowered, fitting into the small clearing with a bit of clearance on each end of the large helicopter. Trees cast shadows over them as he jumped out, followed moments later by the rest of the American and Russian forces. He aimed his SVU-A at the thick underbrush surrounding the clearing, looking for anything that might ambush them. Finding nothing, he relaxed, and so did the others.

(The Clearing)http://i.imgur.com/xV9hJ5O.jpg

“Well, how long do we stay here?” Sokolov asked, still gripping his MTAR-21.

“Say, four hours.” Petrov replied.

“Do you think anybody lives in this patch of forest?” One of the Americans asked.

“Doubt it, Richard.” Another one replied. “We should be alone.”

“Everyone settle down.” Sokolov said, sitting down and leaning his back on the helicopter. “We do not need to do much during this time, so we should take advantage of it.”

The Russians and Americans started to sit and lay down, either on the helicopter or in the field, just resting. Sokolov closed his eyes, opting to have some rest.

Petrov, in his self-appointed duty of lookout, sat on the bed of the helicopter and looked out at the forest, keeping a watch for anything strange. He scanned back and forth, settling into a pace, his SVU-A across his chest as he sat back. The two pilots of the helicopter simply rested in their seats, apparently dozing off.

Vasilyev rested his head on the interior of the Blackhawk, opting to stay inside of it.

Half an hour passed, and then another. Petrov was about to doze off when he heard something he did not expect.

A distant, yet loud scream.

Instantly, he sat up, along with most of the soldiers there.

“What was that?” One of the Americans, ‘Richard’, asked.

“Sounded like a scream, came from the east.” Petrov replied, jumping off the helicopter and getting to his feet. He grabbed ahold of his SVU-A with both hands, holding it at the ready.

“Should we go towards it?” Sokolov asked in Russian.

“We should.” Novikov replied. “Who knows what we might find? Therefore, we should proceed cautiously.”

“I vote no.” Kozlov said.

“We don’t care. Now shut the hell up.” Petrov shot back to the private, walking forwards. Switching to English, he said the answer that they needed. “Everyone, follow me, and make it quick. The two American pilots will stay here.”

“I will, as well as Kozlov.” Vasilyev said, causing the grumbling private to walk back as the eight Americans and Russians headed off into the forest.

Sokolov jogged through the underbrush, following the man in front of him, one of the Americans. They were headed in the direction Petrov, being the only one truly awake at the time, had heard the scream from. For the third time, Sokolov wondered what they would find there.

His ‘Net’ set ‘miniradar’ showed a blue filled arrow at the center, with three blue and four green ‘V’s around it, showing the directions they were facing, along with other information gathered from their ‘Net’ headsets, like ranks and last updated weapon and ammo readouts.

The ‘Net’ set was connected to a small microchip inside of his weapon: It may not tell him how much ammo he may have, but it did allow a crosshair. This was caused by a small tube under the barrel of the rifle that cast out an infrared beam. Whenever the specific frequency his was tuned to was detected by his ‘Net’ units on any objects, a crosshair would appear. Because all of the members of the squad had their tuned to different frequencies, this avoided the problem that would be caused by the ‘Net’ sets detecting multiple beam strikes.

Right now, his ‘Net’ system was in perfect working order, so he could literally see the blue markers that meant friendly units ahead of him being projected onto the glasses of his ‘Net’ system. The glasses each had a thin LCD layer in them, allowing for any sort of display to pop up. He thanked god for new technology: Two or even three years ago, it would not have been possible, but years of research had paid off.

The trees started to thin out, allowing Sokolov to follow the man in front of him easily, jumping over fallen logs and ducking under low branches.

“I have sight of a house, sixty meters ahead.” Petrov said in Russian over the radio, repeating it in English a second later. Sokolov caught sight of it. Several broken windows dotted the exterior of the wooden, one-story structure. It wasn’t that big, but looked fairly recently built. That, and the fact that broken shards of glass littered the area beneath the windows, told the men all they needed to know.

“Get inside and search it. The house might be the source of the screams.” Petrov said.

Yet another, much louder than the one earlier, erupted from it, followed by laughs.

“Scratch that, definite source. Breach and clear.”

The eight soldiers ran up to the house, one on each of the four windows in the front, and four standing to the sides of the door. On a single from Petrov through the ‘Net’ systems, they rushed inside, vaulting over windows and smashing through the front door.

Sokolov, the moment he jumped through the window, found himself in what was apparently the living room. Inside of it were six ponies. Four of them were standing over two others, one of them injured and bleeding. Bringing up his MTAR-21, he identified the four standing up as the most likely perpetrators of whatever was going on here.

He looked down the holographic sight at one of them. Three seconds after coming through the window, he pulled the trigger, sending two rounds into one of them. Mere moments later, the other three fell as well, bullets flying to strike them from multiple sides.

“Multiple contacts down, No Factor on remaining two.” Petrov said. No Factor meant that the remaining two were not perceived to be a threat.

“Are you ok?” One of the Americans said, walking to the remaining two, one a pegasus and one a unicorn.

It took a moment for a reply to form. “Y- Yes, I am fine. Thank you for saving us from those… Bad ponies. What are you?” The uninjured one, a male pegasus, said.

“We are a part of the 2nd Marine Division of the United States of America.” The American sergeant said, walking into Sokolov’s view. Pointing to the four dead ponies, he asked the key question. “Who were they?”

“Robbers.” The pony answered at once. “They’ve hit dozens of houses around us, in groups of four to eight.”

The sergeant shook his head and looked around, taking in a view of the outside.

Sokolov stepped into the room fully. “We cannot help you, as we shall have to go shortly.”

“Why?”

“Many guards are chasing after us.”

The pegasus reeled back slightly, probably in shock. “Why is the guard chasing you?”

“They attacked us, and we had to respond.” Sokolov said in a calm voice.

The pegasus turned away from him, apparently in though. After a short pause, it turned to them. “Can we go with you? We don’t want to stay in the area: They know where we are, and will be back I don’t care if you’re being chased: I care about staying alive and with my wife.”

“Hold on.” Sokolov said, stepping out of the room and motioning for the rest of the soldiers to do the same. Moving outside, the soldiers formed into a small circle.

Sokolov patched through a radio link to Vasilyev, who accepted it.

“I assume you heard every word.” Sokolov said in Russian.

“Of course I did.” Vasilyev said. “And saw every second thanks to the video link. You are going to ask what I think of this, correct?”

“Correct. Do continue.” Sokolov said, patching Petrov into the conversation with a small voice command, and setting it to broadcast the conversation through the rest of the ‘Net’ units.

Vasilyev took a deep breath, the sound of it coming over the microphone. “This is a delicate situation. With the ‘guards’ chasing after us, we’re being followed as much as it is. Having two ponies tag along would not be good for that. What do you think, Petrov?”

“I think we should let the American sergeant decide.” Petrov replied in English.

“I say we allow them to come.” Said sergeant put in, moments after joining the radio conversation. “I don’t think we should just leave them here, especially after what just happened.”

“Then they shall come.” Vasilyev said, closing off the radio connection.

“It seems like we have our answer.” Sokolov said, walking into the house again.

“You can come.” The American sergeant said as they walked in. “Just hope you know what you’re getting in to.”

The pegasus nodded, moving to life up the unicorn (who was probably female, Sokolov thought after a moment). The unicorn glanced at them, and then at the new bandage around its leg, before settling its head down. The pegasus lifted the unicorn up and followed the group as they went outside.

Sokolov trekked through the forest, towards the helicopter. A few times, he heard murmuring from Kozlov about taking “Two fuckin’ ponies” along with them, but Sokolov had gotten used to ignoring the hotheaded private by now.

Due to his onboard ‘miniradar’, he could see the white arrow which designated the two ponies following them (showing up as one due to their proximity, the unicorn literally slung across the Pegasus’s back). Within three minutes, they had reached the MH-60M, where a patient Vasilyev was waiting.

“Come on!” He said in Russian. “We don’t have all day. Personally, I’d rather not be around here when the guards come along.”

“Into the helicopter, and strap in.” One of the Americans said to the two ponies, who, after a moment of hesitation, climbed aboard the helicopter one at a time. They moved to two of the seats in the back as the American pilots started the engines.

The rotors began to rotate and slowly sped up, quickly turning into a blur. Sokolov turned to the female American next to him, who was watching the ponies intently.

“Why did we bring them along, anyway?” He asked.

“Because Sergeant Anderson has a heart, that’s why.” She responded.

Sokolov shrugged. “As good of a reason as any.”

The helicopter slowly lifted off of the ground, rising out of the clearing and over the trees. As soon as they cleared them, the pilot started to tilt forward and accelerate, heading in a southern direction.

“So, what happens now?” Petrov asked Vasilyev.

The lieutenant shook his head. “I do not know. Head south, hope to get out of the area. It is all that we can do.”

“Every, attention!” The pilot said over the radio. “We have Hotel Fox (High Frequency) signals coming in. We are working on a patch, but it’s in the 8-12 MHz range. We’ll tell you more when we get more.”

Petrov and Vasilyev looked at one another, and then out the door of the Blackhawk.

They might just make it through after all.

Author's Note

Well, here's the next chapter. Tell me what you think of it in the comments below.